In the sprawling metropolis of Neo-Arcadia, the skyline shimmered with gleaming towers. Among the city’s most celebrated innovations was the “Flyer Program,” a societal obsession that transformed the way people moved through space. The ‘flyers’—those who took to the air—claimed it was their right, their natural evolution. “I believe I can fly,” they proclaimed, “and therefore, I do.” To them, the path to the ground should be as fast and efficient as possible.
The Ritual of Flight and the Hidden Cost
Every day, at the edge of the tallest skyscrapers, people, dressed in their normal clothes, would leap from the rooftops, trusting in the safety of the “catchers”—individuals carrying enormous cushion blocks, the size of loveseats, designed to absorb the impact of their fall. These catchers, often mentally or physically impaired, were chosen precisely because society deemed them invisible, expendable, and less than fully human.
As a flyer jumped, the catcher positioned their cushion with practiced precision. The impact was devastating, the catcher’s body absorbing much of the force, and resulting in death. Yet, the ‘flyers’ walked away unscathed, their lives unchanged, their convenience preserved. The death of the catcher was seen as an acceptable sacrifice—a necessary price for the privilege of flight.
Rationalization and Dehumanization
The society rationalized this brutal system with chilling logic. “They’re better off dead,” many argued. “Research shows that those with disabilities are happier and more fulfilled in death than in suffering.” The catchers, mostly marginalized individuals, were considered “less than human,” their lives less valuable. Laws were crafted to protect the ‘flyers’’ right to fly, with little regard for the cost.
The ‘flyers’, insulated by their convenience, dismissed the moral weight. They claimed, “Science proves we’re flying, not falling.” They argued that the change in definition was merely semantic, that falling was just a form of flying, as long as they believed in their right to do so. Their eyes closed to the reality that each leap was a death sentence for someone else.
In the city’s bustling streets, life continued as if nothing was wrong. The ‘flyers’ moved effortlessly from rooftop to ground, avoiding the slow grind of elevators or the mundane steps of walking. They reveled in their freedom, oblivious to the suffering behind their convenience. The city’s leaders turned a blind eye, prioritizing innovation over morality.
Critics voiced concern, but their voices were drowned out by the roar of progress. To challenge the system was to
challenge the very notion of progress itself. The society had rewritten the meaning of flying, transforming it into a symbol of liberty, even as it masked a dark, hidden truth.
The Hidden Pain and Regret
Behind closed doors, most ‘flyers’ carried a heavy burden. They knew the truth—that each leap was a death, a loss, a tragedy. Many felt the ache of guilt, a silent grief for the families torn apart by the loss of loved ones. Parents who had lost children, spouses who mourned partners, friends who carried the weight of knowing they contributed to a system that sacrificed human lives for convenience.
The Illusion of Progress
The catchers’ families’ lives were forever altered. Missing birthdays, graduations, weddings—moments that could never be reclaimed. The void left by those lost was a gaping wound that no amount of technological progress could heal.
The Revelation of Truth
In quiet moments, some ‘flyers’ stared at the sky, their eyes clouded with regret. They knew the reality was too clear to ignore: they were killing people. The society’s rationalizations were a veneer over a brutal truth. Yet, despite their remorse, they felt powerless to stop. The addiction to flight, the societal pressure, the belief that they were doing the right thing—all kept them in their airborne ritual.
The Moral of the Story
This story exposes a chilling truth: when a society ignores plain reality for the sake of convenience, it risks dehumanizing others and perpetuating injustice. The ‘flyers’’ rationalizations—“It’s my right,” “Science supports me”—are thin veils over a brutal reality that they refuse to confront. Their regret is real, their pain undeniable, but their inability to cease their actions reveals the tragic depth of moral blindness.
In the end, the story urges us to remember: true progress must include compassion, empathy, and acknowledgment of the human cost. Ignoring plain reality for convenience leads to a society where some lives are deemed expendable, and the cost is paid in grief and loss—costs that can never truly be justified.